


World Wars Episode VII

by beastiesharp



Category: Leviathan - Scott Westerfeld
Genre: 1700, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Dalek - Freeform, F/M, Leviathan Trilogy, Star Wars AU, overuse of the phrase "the boy"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:36:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5819827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastiesharp/pseuds/beastiesharp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leviathan Stormpilot AU with Alek as Poe (sort of) and Deryn as Finn (for the most part) and Lilit as Rey (I guess).</p>
            </blockquote>





	World Wars Episode VII

**Author's Note:**

> I write this in the car for 12 hours without internet so please excuse any terrible mistakes I made.

This was absolutely no throne.

Alek squirmed in the restraints, his wrists and ankles firmly bound in place. How had he let this happen? Dining with Volger one second, unconscious the next. Although he knew this hadn't been any of his instructor's doing- had it?

He supposed it was to happen sooner or later. As one of the best pilots in the resistance (behind only his extraordinary tutor) and the prince of his home planet Hohen (although that fact remained a secret for everyone but him and his closest associates), he was bound to be captured someday. If the First Order were going to capture anyone, it would likely be him.

But why keep him in an empty chamber? The anxiety, the regret, the anticipation was killing him. Perhaps that was their intention-- some pre-torture jitters were sure to make him spill rebel secrets. 

Not Alek. He would hold his ground.

And they wouldn't torture him, would they? He was just fifteen years old, after all. A child. And yet the First Order was ruthless.

A sliding sound came from behind Alek, and he clenched his jaw. A stormtrooper appeared at his side, nudging a switch at the side of the platform to release Alek's bonds. He fell to the floor on his knees.

"Don't cause any trouble," came a distorted voice through the stormtrooper's helmet. And was that a slight Scottish accent? Alek looked up at him, rubbing his irritated wrists.

"Are they going to torture me?"

"Get up, kid." Yet he didn't give him a chance to do it himself, yanking Alek up by the elbow and swiftly escorting him from the chamber.

The corridor was empty when they entered it, and Alek would've seriously considered making a run for it if the stormtrooper holding him hadn't looked like he could kick his ass. He stood at least twenty centimeters taller than him, and looked absolutely intimidating in all the white armor. Not someone who Alek would pick a fight with.

Eventually they stopped at the entrance to a lift tube, and the stormtrooper quickly punched in a code before pushing himself Alek inside. The door slid shut and they began to move.

The stormtrooper stared straight ahead. Alek watched him carefully.

"Are they going to torture me?" he asked once more. And then, "Where are you taking me?"

"Actually, the question should be where you're taking me." He lifted off his helmet, turning to face Alek as he cradled it in his hands.

The boy looked much younger than Alek expected. Maybe his age or perhaps even younger, judging by the boy's incredibly fine features. His blond hair sweeped sideways across his head, tousled from where the helmet had been resting upon it.

"Huh?" Alek managed.

"Can you pilot an X-wing?" the boy asked, his voice now clear.

"I can pilot anything."

"Good." He let a smile sneak past his lips. "I was supposed to take you in for questioning, but we're getting the hell out of this barking madhouse."

Alek couldn't believe his ears. "Wait, you're rescuing me?"

"Out of the goodness of my heart."

"...You need a pilot."

"I need a pilot," the boy admitted. "That was a load of clart."

The door slid open then, and the boy put his helmet back on, grabbing Alek's arm once more to lead him out (the only difference being that this time he wasn't scared out of his mind).

He took Alek into the hangar, which was absolutely crowded. Stormtroopers seemed to be at every corner, a few glancing their way.

Alek's knees suddenly felt weak. "Stay calm..." he mumbled.

"I am calm," said the boy.

"I was talking to myself." Alek kept his eyes downward as he was led farther, into a cranny on the side of an X-wing. 

"You'd better be right about your skills," the stormtrooper said, giving Alek a leg up to get into the craft. He soon hopped in himself, strapping himself in behind him. "Let's go."

If anyone around the hangar hadn't suspected anything before, they had by now. Through the front windscreen Alek could see stormtroopers glancing around and back at them, and then a few approaching.

"Barking spiders, lad, get on with it!"

He didn't need to be told twice. Alek started up the craft as fast as he could, searching his brain for everything he could remember about piloting an X-wing. It had been far too long since that lesson, but he'd have to make do.

Gently he coaxed it out into the open, well aware that they'd opened fire on him. But the boy seated behind him was shooting back, and doing it well, too. Alek took a deep breath, pushing the craft to full speed. 

A second of free bliss-- then a harsh pull, and the safety belt cut into Alek's chest as the craft was stopped abruptly. He glanced to the back, where a long chain was holding them in place.

"I'm working on it!" The boy behind him announced. "Keep going!"

Oh, dear lord. They were attached to the shuttle. 

Alek continued pushing at full speed, the engines protesting with a deafening rumble that sent powerful vibrations through his body. And in case his adrenaline wasn't high enough, they were also being shot at by an increasingly large number of stormtroopers down below. 

Whatever the boy had been doing, it seemed to have worked. Suddenly the pair were jolted forward once more, free of the chain that had held them. The ship shot out of the hangar and into empty, silent space.

And Alek began to laugh.

His palms were sweaty around the controls, he was twice as exhausted as he'd ever been, but he was safe. And all thanks to this charming stranger, who was now laughing along with him.

"What's your name, lad?"

"Alek. And yours?"

"DN-2187. Less of a name, more of a classification."

Alek frowned. "Well, you're not a stormtrooper anymore, you deserve a proper name."

"Hah. Any suggestions, then?"

"DN... Dylan. I'm gonna call you Dylan, you alright with that?"

"Dylan. Yeah, I like that a lot!"

"Alright, Dylan." Alek glanced at the controls. "So where are we off to?"

"Anywhere but here. Where are you from? You're with the Resistance, aren't you?"

"Yeah, yeah. But we probably wouldn't want to go back to my planet. It's kind of small, there's not a lot of people." He didn't feel the need to add that his parents ruled the place. The less people who knew that, the better.

"Right, well, I have no knowledge on the subject of galaxy navigation, so I'll leave it to you- Oh, barking spiders, Alek, we're being followed-"

"What? By whom?"

"Who do you expect? The First Order, idiot!"

Alek looked backward. Dylan was right. "Okay, okay, we have no chance of outflying them, but Jakku is nearby, and maybe I can land us there quickly enough to hide."

"Get on with it, then!"

Once again, Alek pushed the craft to full speed, watching the tan-gray planet become closer in his view. He could hear Dylan's blasters firing backwards, but had no clue whether or not they were hitting their target.

"Alek, we'd better be close to-"

"We are, we are." The planet was in full view now, and Alek was scanning its surface for any sign of civilization that would be convenient to land by. So far, nothing. And he was getting impatient.

He was suddenly thrown forward in his seat, a deafening crash filling his ears. The compartment began to spin.

"We're going down!" Dylan announced, his voice panicked.

Was this how it would end? Spiraling into nothingness?

Alek couldn't tell. Everything he could see was spinning so fast, he couldn't even get a good estimate on which way they were thrown. And worst yet, the blast had taken out an engine. 

"We're headed toward the planet! What do we do?" Dylan yelled.

"Ah, it's better than being sent into deep space!"

"That's nowhere near what I asked!"

But he was right. Jakku's gravity had pulled them in, and they were on a direct crash course with the sandy terrain.

"Don't die!" was the best advice Alek could offer.

"Do we have parachutes?"

"We should- Oh, God, we won't have nearly enough time. We just hit the atmosphere."

"And that means?"

"That we're going so fast that we'll have to stay inside this thing and hope it can withstand a direct collision with the ground while simultaneously keeping us alive."

"Right." Dylan sighed. "Well, good luck."

"Good lu-" 

A crash.

They'd hit harder than Alek expected to, the cabin shaking and rattling enough in three seconds to give him a migraine for years. Sand swirled around outside the windscreen.

He immediately unfastened his safety belt and stood on top of his seat to push open the hatch, scrambling out into the dusty air. He coughed and wheezed and did his best to protect his eyes, but the sand seemed to be everywhere. He'd managed to take five steps away before a single thought nudged at his mind.

Dylan.

Did he make it out? Oh, God, he didn't even check in with him after the crash! 

"Dylan!" he called into the dust storm, receiving no reply. Then the sand under his feet began to move. The X-wing was sinking.

He scrambled away as fast as he could, as hard as it was to climb a steepening slope of falling sand. 

And then it stopped. Alek glanced behind him. The X-wing was nowhere to be seen.

He stared at the empty landscape, horrified. Had Dylan made it out? He was certainly nowhere to be seen now. And there's no way he could've made it out.

Alek stood there for a minute, mourning the boy he'd only known for just a bit less than half an hour, yet had risked everything by saving him. Finally he glanced up, where the planet's sun stood high in the sky. If he took off in one direction, he'd surely make it to some civilization by nightfall. He nudged the sand with his boot, then turned to his left. 

Lost or not, wandering was by far better than being imprisoned.


End file.
